By Rory Rusnak (2018)
Look at the girl. She wears raggedy clothes, like those of a vagabond, and seems to be carrying great weight upon her shoulders. Her eyes, large and discoloured, seem to cry for help as she makes her way down the crowded, metropolitan avenue. Perhaps this was from the great weight upon her shoulders or maybe from another tragedy or upsetting time.
Now, as the sun hits her weary face it is hard to tell whether this is a young girl or a corpse, rotting in the street.
As the sun beams its rays down, the girl flinches into the shade, under a large, majestic, oak tree where she rests her withered feet and legs.
The shade seems to provide great relief to the girl and now her face begins to loosen up, her eyes begin to come back into colour and, almost like magic, all of her body seems more invigorated than before.